Chapter 2

Grandpa was my only family.

My parents died when I was young. Grandpa raised me by collecting scrap and recycling, scraping together enough to put me through college so I could build a life in the city.

I bought an apartment in the city, but he refused to move in. He said the place felt like a cage — too cramped, hard to breathe.

Last year, his memory started getting worse. One time he put water on to boil and forgot to turn off the stove, nearly burning down the old house.

Our neighbor called me, voice shaking. "Lily, you need to come back right now. Your grandfather almost burned himself alive!"

I took a week off work and brought Grandpa to the city.

But I had a job to go to, trips to take — I couldn't watch him twenty-four hours a day.

Hire a home aide? He got anxious around strangers. Two different aides quit within their first three days.

With no other options, I gritted my teeth and moved him into the best care facility in the area.

Sunset Haven Senior Living.

Eight thousand eight hundred a month. Premium care — doctors, nurses, meals delivered to the room, one-on-one caregiver service.

When the director gave me a tour, he made a point of introducing the lead caregiver.

"This is Greg. Eight years with us. The most patient man we have, best at keeping our residents comfortable. Leave your grandfather with him and you won't have a thing to worry about."

Greg was in his fifties, heavyset, soft-spoken.

"Don't you worry," he said. "I treat every resident like my own family."

I left feeling completely reassured.

The first month, Grandpa sounded happy every time he called.

"Lily, the food here is great. Greg is so good to me — draws me a foot bath every single night."

The weight lifted off my chest. Eight thousand eight hundred well spent.

But starting the second month, his calls changed.

"Lily, I don't want to stay anymore. Please come take me home..."

I asked why. He fumbled and couldn't explain — just said he missed home.

I tried to reassure him. "Grandpa, your legs aren't good. I'd worry if you were home alone. Once things calm down at work, I'll bring you over to stay for a few days."

He went quiet for a long moment, said "okay," and hung up.

I didn't think much of it at the time.

It was normal for old people to miss home.

Over the next few days, his calls came more and more often.

The same thing, over and over: "Lily, when are you coming to get me?"

I started losing my patience.

"Grandpa, I'm busy with work. Can you please stop calling so much? If you need something, ask the caregiver. Isn't Greg good to you?"

Grandpa went quiet after that — and then something happened.

I was in a meeting when my phone wouldn't stop buzzing. The nursing home.

I slipped out to take the call. Greg's voice came through, carrying a hint of resignation.

"Lily, your grandfather took a fall. Just scraped his arm a little — nothing serious, already taken care of. Don't worry."

When I got there, Grandpa was sitting on his bed. His right elbow had a large bruise on it, and a few marks that looked like scratches.

"How did he fall?"

Grandpa glanced at Greg, shrank back, and said nothing.

Greg sighed. "He got up in the night to use the bathroom. I offered to help him, but he wouldn't let me — insisted on walking himself. His foot slipped and he went down. I rushed to catch him, and he grabbed onto me and scratched me."

He rolled up his sleeve. There were a few red marks on the back of his hand.

"It's fine, really. Old folks can be stubborn. I get it."

I believed him.

As I was leaving, Grandpa suddenly grabbed my hand — with a grip that scared me.

"Lily, I didn't fall. Greg pinched me. He pinches me in the middle of the night..."

I froze.

I looked back at Greg. He wore a helpless expression, shaking his head with a tired smile.

"Lily, your grandfather has been a little confused lately. The doctor says it's the disease progressing — he may start having hallucinations and paranoid episodes. Please don't take it to heart."

I let out a slow breath.

Right. Grandpa had dementia. The doctor did say hallucinations would come eventually.

I crouched down beside him. "Grandpa, were you maybe dreaming? Greg takes such good care of you — why would he pinch you?"

Grandpa got upset, eyes going wide. "I wasn't dreaming! It was him!"

"At night, when I'm asleep, he comes and pinches my thighs, pinches my sides. I wake up from the pain, and he tells me I was dreaming!"